


painted me golden

by lucylikestowrite



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, Look y'all must know my style by now, Mild Smut, Weddings, just assume if I've rated it M it means
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-23 12:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13190520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: Ava and Sara meet at Ava's sister's wedding.





	painted me golden

**Author's Note:**

> title is from dancing with our hands tied. Did I already use lyrics from that song as a title? Probably. The lyrics are good and also very gay, so appropriate.

Ava doesn't want to be at her sister’s wedding, for a number of reasons.

Firstly, she hates heels. They're uncomfortable, impractical, and dangerous, but her sister told her that if she wore flats, she'd disown her.

Ava likes Clare just enough to not want that to happen.

Secondly, she's not even part of the wedding party, which is a slight she's definitely not over yet.

No matter how many times Clare had told her that there ‘just wasn't room’ because they ‘had to have matching amounts of groomsmen and bridesmaids’ and of course her fiancé only had three guys that could tolerate him enough to be friends with and Clare ‘couldn't possibly leave out any of her best friends’, Ava had known that wasn't the reason.

Clare just thought she was old. But then, Clare, 8 years younger than her and 100% an accident, had always thought Ava was old. Only, now, it smarted a bit more, especially since Ava was only 32 - not exactly over the hill by any standards.

And thirdly, probably the worst of all, she’s single. Which meant she had had the same three question conversation with about a hundred people so far. It was always the same three questions, and it was driving Ava mad.

It started off with an innocent enough, ‘Ava! We haven't seen you in so long!’

She would bite her tongue, and not reply that the reason for that was because she had got the hell out of this town as soon as she was out of high school, and had never looked back. Instead, she'd make some sort of affirmative sound, and, like clockwork, they'd move on to their first question.

‘Are you married?’

‘No.’ Her tone had had been polite at the beginning of the evening, but now, the hours moving on, it was getting less amiable.

They would look slightly perturbed, like the idea of an unmarried 32-year-old was more than a little bit offensive to their world view, but persist on.

‘Do you have a boyfriend?’

‘No.’ Ava would take a breath each time. ‘I'm a lesbian.’

Their faces would fall further, and then, politeness, and a belief in monogamy that seemed to override bigotry would force them to ask:

‘A girlfriend?’

They always had the exact same look on their face when they asked, as if they weren't quite sure what they wanted the answer to be - as if either answer would be disappointing.

‘No.’

And then the conversation would always, always fizzle out, because apparently that was the only thing people cared about.

No-one had asked about her job. She wondered if any of them would care that she'd just been promoted, that she was looking at running for District Attorney, that her record in the court was almost perfect.

Probably not. She didn't have any babies running around her tiny one-bed apartment, so she hadn't amounted to anything.

The ceremony had been nice enough, but she might've enjoyed it more if she'd been standing up there, instead of relegated to pews next to her Mom, who spent the entire time crying, every so often pausing to look meaningfully at Ava.

Ava wasn't sure what she had thought that would do. It wasn't like a fiancée was going to suddenly pop out from behind one of the lavishly decorated pillars, and fall into her arms.

At the dinner, she was at least, on the top table, and wasn't forced to interact awkwardly with whatever second cousin twice removed she might have been placed with if her sister had been less kind with the seating plan.

It didn't quite make up for the slight, but it helped a bit.

It was the reception that she'd been dreading, and it was at the reception that she was now hiding, trying to avoid having that same conversation with anyone else.

She hardly knows anyone here. If they weren't family, they were her sister’s and… brother-in-law’s friends from college. They'd both gone to the same college, the one that everyone in town who wasn't Ava had gone to, and all of their friends looked, and talked the same. Genuinely. Ava had only just learnt to distinguish Clare’s new husband, Ryan, from his frat friends. They were all the same brand of bland, and attractive enough if you were into the tan skin and muscles look, which, she was, just not on men.

There had been wine on the table, but Ava hadn't drunk enough of it, and it’s definitely wearing off, so she heads towards the bar, head down, trying to avoid anyone who might pin her down and stop her from getting blissfully drunk.

She makes it, albeit with one brief encounter with someone who she definitely recognised. When they had said, “Ava?” she had just replied, “No,” which wasn't a tactic which was likely to be effective for long, but hopefully, soon, she would be too drunk for anyone to want to try small talk.

The bar is an open one, a small blessing on this shittiest of days, and she orders a shot of vodka. Then she considers, and makes that a double. It feels childish, something she hadn't ordered since her college days, and rarely even then, but she wants to get drunk quickly.

A voice comes from next to her. “Make that two of those.”

She turns. A blonde that she doesn't recognise is next to her. She probably wouldn't be much shorter than Ava, but in the ridiculous heels that Ava is wearing, she's towering above her.

She looks almost like someone who could be one of the college lot, but she's a couple of years too old, and there is a hardness in her eyes not present in the college kids.

The shots are poured, and they down them. Ava winces at the taste, the alcohol burning down her throat.

The blonde sticks out her hand. “I'm Sara.”

“Ava,” Ava replies.

There is a brief pause, and the vodka isn't hitting quick enough, and she needs something in her hands to stop her from fidgeting, so she orders a cocktail. Sara does the same.

Ava moves away from the bar, cocktail in hand, and Sara follows. Maybe she'll end this night with a friend.

They sit down, sipping at the drinks.

“So who are you here for?” Sara asks. Ava is momentarily thrown by a question that's not about her love life, and doesn't answer immediately. “Bride or groom?” Sara prompts.

“Bride. I'm her sister. You?” Ava asks. It seems like the polite thing to do, and Clare would kick her if she didn't at least try to make some friends.

“Groom. They were my next door neighbors all through my childhood.” Sara pauses. “I was kinda surprised they invited me, though, since I broke Taylor’s heart. I suppose they thought it would be rude to invite my whole family and not me.”

It takes a second for Ava to remember that Taylor is Ryan’s sister, not Ryan’s brother. Her stomach flips. This feels like it should be an opportunity, but, to be quite honest, part of the reason she's so perpetually single is that she's utterly, utterly terrible at taking advantage of opportunities.

And then despair swoops in, in the shape of Mike, her first (and last) boyfriend, one of their close family friends. He wasn't a bad boyfriend. In fact, as men go, he's pretty decent. If she'd been straight, they might have even worked out. But right now, while she's trying to build up the confidence to properly talk to Sara, she doesn't need it. She doesn't know why she can't just come out like she's being doing all evening to strangers, but this feels different.

“Ava! How long’s it been?”

“Probably about 16 years, Mike,” Ava says through gritted teeth.

“Oh, no-one calls me Mike anymore. It's Michael now.”

Great. Just being overly familiar like some sort of teenager with no social skills.

There is silence, and then Mike breaks it, smiling good-naturedly. He was always good at getting rid of awkwardness. Ava had definitely mistaken the nice feeling of being around someone who’s easy to like for actual romantic feelings.

“Is this your girlfriend?”

Ava shakes her head rapidly, wondering if the panic in her eyes shows. “No. We just met.” She can't turn her head, can't look at Sara's face.

“Sorry. She just seems like the sort of girl you would've found. Always knew you were destined for greater things than me.”

Ava wants to sink into the ground.

Mike hardly seems to notice her squirming.

“Well, it was very nice to see you again, but I think my wife is calling.”

Of course he’s married.

“And it was nice to meet you, too-”

“Sara,” Sara says, holding out a hand. Ava finally turns, trying to get a grip on Sara's face, but her expression is unreadable.

Mike hurries away, and they are alone again.

Sara turns to her, a smile on her face. “You know, now you mention it, I feel like I've heard Ryan talk about his gay future sister-in-law, who betrayed the family by…”

“Moving out of town?” Ava suggests. Ava’s supposed betrayal of the family is her mother’s favorite topic of conversation.

“That would be it.”

Sara smiles, ruefully. “My family weren't too pleased about my sister and I moving away, either, but I don't think they took it quite as hard as yours.”

Ava pauses for a second, her gaze in her lap, then she looks up, shifting in her seat. 

“So where do you live now?” She hopes the question comes off as casual.

“Star City.”

Ava almost chokes on her drink. Fate can't be being this kind to her. She's never met anyone else in this town who'd even heard of Star City. It's far away, and the people here aren't big on geography. This girl will turn out to be a serial killer, or straight, because dating Taylor was only a phase, or, even worse, a straight serial killer.

She doesn't know what to say, so she just says, “Wow," the word coming out as one long breath.

“You too?”

Ava nods.

“Strange how things work out like that, isn't it?” Sara muses, sipping her drink, her gaze unreadable over the rim. “What do you do?”

“I work in the district attorney’s office.”

Sara raises an eyebrow. “Ah. The enemy.”

Oh god. Is she actually a criminal?

“I'm not a criminal,” Sara clarifies. Ava must've let her worry show on her face. “I work for my sister. She’s a defence attorney. Legal aid.”

“Oh. Cool.” Ava doesn't feel cool. She is scanning through every defense attorney she's met, trying to place Sara's sister, trying to figure out anything she can use to stop this from slipping through her fingers. Without a name, though, it's difficult. Ava's pretty sure there isn't a defence attorney in Star City that looks quite like Sara does.

Sara nods, falling silent.

Ava is making a mess of this.

Then Sara finishes her drink, slamming it on the table. Ava jumps.

“Do you want to dance?”

“With you?” Ava asks. 

“No, with Mike.” She pauses. Ava is pretty sure that's a joke. “Yes, with me,” Sara finishes, a strange look on her face, standing up, and holding out a hand.

Ava finishes her drink, and stands up, then pauses, reaching down to release her feet from the stilettos she'd been inflicting on herself all day.

She steps down out of them, and suddenly Sara’s face is much closer.

Ava takes the hand Sara is still offering. She leads her through the tables, and onto the crowded dance floor.

The songs are upbeat, at least to begin with. Ava doesn't know any of the words, and Sara knows all of them, and it doesn't seem to matter.

The alcohol is finally starting to kick in properly, and she feels… vaguely relaxed.

Every so often Sara’s hand will brush up against hers. She smiles the whole time, and Ava wishes she knew if that was flirting, or just general companionship.

Then the music slows, and Ava suddenly panics, tugging at Sara’s hand, trying to get off the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” Sara hisses.

“I- we should go.”

“Why?”

Ava can't come up with a good reason, or maybe she just can't properly voice the terror that slow dancing with a woman in front of her family instils in her.

“That's what I thought,” Sara says.

Her hand finds Ava’s waist. Ava tries not to shiver at the touch.

She vaguely knows the song that's playing, enough to just about sway along to the rhythm.

She is overly aware of Sara’s hands, resting casually on her body. Ava’s hands don't feel casual. Where they touch Sara’s body, they're intensely aware of every single movement they make.

But, eventually, they fall into something nice. The DJ doesn't seem to be showing any signs of changing back up to fast music.

It's ending the night, and the only people left on the dance floor are couples (and Sara and Ava.)

Ava is almost comfortable. The drinks are still affecting her. Everything is slightly fuzzier than it should be. Her head feels wrapped in cotton wool.

Then Sara says, “I really want to kiss you,” and she almost runs away, like some sort of teenager who’s never been kissed.

She doesn't, but she does something almost as bad. She says, “You can't.”

Sara pulls her hands away. The absence on her skin is jarring, and Ava almost kicks herself.

“Why?” Sara asks, her tone clearly offended, her eyes narrowing.

“That's not what I meant. I mean. I did mean that, but I didn't.”

“You're not making much sense.”

“I know.” She pauses. “I just don't want our first kiss to be in front of my entire family.” She inclines her head slightly. “I think they're watching.”

Sara turns her head ever so slightly, then smiles. “It would appear they are.”

She pulls Sara back into her arms. Their faces are close.

“First kiss?” Sara asks, a playful expression on her face. "Are you assuming there'll be more?"

“I didn't mean-” Ava breaks off, sighing. “I'm not usually like this.”

Sara leans in closer, her mouth at Ava’s ear. “Maybe I'd like to see what you're usually like.”

Ava shivers, for real this time. Sara's breath is hot, and her lips brush against the side if Ava's cheek, and she feels like she might break apart at a moments notice. She hopes Sara doesn't notice the goosebumps on her arms.

Sara continues talking. “The only problem we might encounter is that I'm pretty sure our friends and families conspired to set us up.”

This is both a surprise and not a surprise.

“How do you suppose that?” Ava asks, her voice strained, her jaw tight. Sara's fingers are still on Ava's waist, fingertips pressing in, and it's all Ava can do to concentrate on the words that are being said.

“Well, I know I said I was surprised to have been invited, but I was actually _really_ surprised to be invited, because I've been blacklisted from pretty much all of my neighbors’ events since I dumped Tom.”

Ava does a double take.

“I thought you dated Taylor," she says, her eyes finally meeting Sara's.

Sara smirks. “I did. And then I dated her brother. I think your sister saw me as a bit of a threat, worried I was going to try to seduce Ryan and make it a full house.” Sara glances over at where Clare and Ryan are dancing. “She didn't have anything to worry about. I'm not into that sort of bland.”

Ava briefly contemplates all this new information, considers whether she cares about putting the seal of approval on a woman who is potentially family approved, and then she decides she doesn't care.

The alcohol is still making her braver than she usually would be, and she tugs Sara away from the dance floor.

Clare had wanted elaborate decorations for her wedding, and, like everything else she wanted, she'd got them.

The room is filled with giant ornaments, every pillar covered in ribbon, every table centred with a giant sculpture. It's not hard to find a corner out of the eyeline of her family.

When they're alone, she surges forward, ducking her head slightly to find Sara’s mouth, her hands around the back of Sara’s head, pulling her in.

She hasn't kissed anyone in a while, and it feels like heaven. They're both drunk, and her hands are everywhere. Sara's hands skate over her body, trying, and failing, to find purchase on the slinky dress Ava is wearing. She may not have been in the wedding party, but that didn't stop Clare from dictating what type and colour of dress she'd be wearing, which is how she ended up in a long, navy, satin gown, which she would never have picked out for herself.

She can't deny it looks pretty good on her, though. 

Sara breaks away, and Ava gasps, only then realising how much she needed air.

She seems to agree with Ava about the dress. Her gaze roves across Ava's body, not even trying to be subtle, and then her eyes rise back up to meet Ava's. They're dark, and when she speaks, her voice is low.

“This dress,” Sara says, “is pissing me off.”

“Oh?” Ava asks, her tone playful.

“It's covering too much.”

Ava doesn't think it's covering enough. Her arms are bare, and her cleavage, which very rarely makes appearances, is, at least partially, on show. There's a slit in the side which Ava made the tailor close slightly, sure that if it was left as high as it was, she would cause some sort of scandal. But she's not going to disagree, because the combination of Sara’s voice and the look in her eyes is making heat rise between her legs.

If it's been a while since she's been kissed, it's definitely been a while since anything more has happened. Her job’s been taking up every last spare moment she has, and in the rare moments she has to herself, she doesn't have the energy to go out and attempt to find women who are into her.

But now, there's one in front of her, actually interested, and she'll be damned if she doesn't take this chance.

“My family has this whole place rented out,” Ava says, a little breathless, because Sara’s mouth has moved to her neck and it's bordering on what is appropriate in public. “I mean, I have a room,” she clarifies, when Sara doesn't stop.

This gets Sara’s attention. “Here?”

“Yes. Upstairs."

“Then by all means, lead the way,” Sara says, a smirk on her face that only makes the wanting between her legs worse.

Ava takes her hand, her heart beating fast. Sara sways slightly in the heels she’s wearing.

It's late, and the party is winding down. No-one will notice that they're missing.

They reach the elevator. The second the door closes, Sara leans back in. Ava lets herself fall in for a second, then pulls away, almost giggling despite herself, as the doors open.

Her room is close, she knows that, but the number isn't on the card she has, and she unsuccessfully tries a few doors, Sara hanging onto her arm and whispering things in her ear that make her blush, before she finds the one that's hers.

They tumble in together. It's a beautiful room, because Clare wasn't going to go for anything less than perfect. The bed is a four poster, with curtains around it.

Sara, detaching herself from Ava’s arm, heads towards the mini fridge.

“You're not paying for this room, right?”

Ava shakes her head.

Sara grins, pulling bottles out of the fridge, and pouring them into tumblers.

She hands one to Ava. She downs it in one.

Sara's grin widens as she follows straight behind with her own drink.

And then everything is a blur. The alcohol hits, going straight to her head. They're stumbling around the room, aiming to end up in the bed at some point, but not worried about how long it takes to get there.

Sara's mouth is hot. Her hands roam everywhere. One hand finds the slit in Ava’s dress, pushing it upwards. Her fingers splay on Ava’s hip, and Ava just wants the dress off.

She turns around, hoping Sara will get the idea. A second later, she feels fingers fumbling at the zipper. It's pulled down, and Ava shivers as cold air hits her back. The dress doesn't fall, though, a catch at the top still holding it up.

Sara swears quietly. After a minute of her fingers scrabbling at Ava’s back, the catch finally comes loose, and the dress falls down to the floor, pooling on the floor, a puddle of shiny blue. Ava turns. Sara’s dress is made of some stretchy material, and she shrugs it off in a second.

“The trick is planning ahead,” Sara says, laughing.

She's still laughing when she kisses Ava again, the sound reverberating through the room. Ava's hands are on Sara’s stomach, fingers moving over hard muscle.  
  
Ava laughs too, as they fall backwards into the bed.

Sara makes a big deal of closing the curtains, and then they're in their own world, their surroundings dim.

Ava hovers over Sara, resting on her elbows, and Sara pulls apart the bun in Ava’s hair that had somehow survived until now.

Her hair falls down, a sheet of sandy blonde.

She lowers herself down, their bodies pressed together. Sara’s hand reaches down, her touch soft, and Ava actually moans.

She pulls away, heat rising in her cheeks, and Sara smiles wide, pulling her back down, their mouths crashing together, open and messy and perfect.

Sara works her way into Ava. At some point, they switch, when Ava is too boneless to prop herself up anymore. Sara looks like an angel in the low light.

Ava finishes with a shudder, white light in her eyes. She briefly contemplated how she got there, and then rolls back over, pinning Sara underneath her.

Sara smiles.

 

* * *

  
Ava wakes up to Sara next to her. She realises she has no idea what Sara’s last name is, or really anything about her except that she's really, really, really good in bed.

She gets up, yanking open the curtains. This wakes Sara up. She sits up, wiping her eyes.

“Where are you going?”

Ava stops, as if she's been caught doing something bad.

“To get dressed.”

“I thought you were running out on me.”

“I wasn't.”

“It's okay if you were going to.”

“I wasn't,” Ava repeats, more forcefully than she'd intended. “Anyway, it’s _my_ room. All my stuff is here.”

“Okay.” Sara smiles a strange, knowing half smile that makes Ava’s stomach churn. “I just figured you probably weren't very used to one night stands.”

From anyone else, this might sound like an insult, but from Sara it just sounds understanding.

“I'm not.”

“I figured.”

Ava walks back to the bed, crawling over the sheets to where Sara is still sitting.

“I was actually planning on keeping it that way.”

Sara cocks her head. “Oh?”

It's time for Ava to start taking risks.

“It's not a one night stand if you go on another date after, right?”

Sara pulls her over the precipice, into her arms, lips meeting.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”


End file.
